Martha Lacy Hall

Before opening the car door, Lucia took a deep breath of the Louisiana night air. She was not unaware of its heaviness, its moistness, the smells of Lake Pontchartrain—salt, seaweed, water creatures, all mixed with the sounds produced by the wind [...]

All through the noisy luncheon Glory Bea would lay her hand over her wine glass when the waiter came patrolling her side of the long table. On his last trip around behind her, she almost relented and left her hand in her lap and let him pour. But s [...]